


her butler

by WattStalf



Series: Commissions [17]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Bondage, Butlers, Drugs, Dubious Consent, F/M, Nipple Play, Omorashi, Past Rape/Non-con, Tags to be added, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-02-27 18:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18744841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/pseuds/WattStalf
Summary: After an incident late one night, involving too much tea and pushing herself, Emma and her butler Alistair's relationship changes significantly.





	1. Chapter 1

Emma was never particularly close with her family, despite still living in their home at the age of twenty-two. Sometimes she thinks that they might not have really noticed her presence at all, with how big the manor is, but really, she knows that they don’t notice her and therefore don’t pay any mind to the fact that she isn’t looking to marry and have her own household for the same reason they’ve never had much of a bond with her- business.

Her father and mother were both prominent in the business world and married each other along with merging their respective businesses, likely with no intention of having children, seeing as they were on the older side when she was unexpectedly conceived. She remained an only child, raised mostly by the help in their house, and a year ago, her father finally managed to work himself to death. Her mother picked up where he left off, but her health quickly began to fail, leaving Emma alone now. She doesn’t miss her parents as much as she feels like she should, but then, she’s already had her entire life to miss them, and this doesn’t feel like anything new.

And, really, she isn’t entirely alone, not with the staff still working in the home, and not with her days filled with settling her parents’ business affairs. She has enough inheritance from them the live out the rest of her days in the same wealth she’s always known, and she’s inherited the house on top of that. Without much of a passion for their business, she’s decided not to take on any of that burden, and is now settling the matter of what goes where, and who takes over what. In the meantime, she does have to handle a few of their responsibilities, but only until everything is settled.

She isn’t alone in this feat either, at least, because she has the help of one of their butlers, Alistair, who was enough of a confidante of her parents that he has some idea of how to run things. He really has been like a part of the family over the years, and Emma has always admired him, much more than she should, and now, she is starting to think that her crush on him is not something that she’s ever going to grow out of.

Though a relationship between them is likely impossible, she still fantasizes about it, and has taken to writing over the years to relieve her of her many dreams and daydreams involving the much older man. She has a journal in which she describes all of these things, and has found that she enjoys writing quite a bit, with the idea to potentially pursue a career in it once she is completely free of the family business.

For now, she just writes down all the details of her inappropriate crush, and makes sure that she keeps her journal- a very ordinary looking notebook, since she doesn’t want to advertise it as a diary- typically out of sight. Eventually, she does hope to move on, and use her fantasies as a happy memory to jump start her career in erotica, or something of the sort.

And, though she prefers not to think about it, a relationship between them would be difficult for reasons other than her station, and their age difference, for the same reason that she prefers to keep her fantasies to paper, rather than trying to pursue them with anyone. But she doesn’t want to think about that, not any more than she has to.

~X~

On late nights, it becomes very difficult to concentrate on the work in front of her. Before, these late nights are when she would lose herself in her writing, fantasizing about him while he was off somewhere in the house, doing some sort of work and completely unaware of how the young heiress wanted him, and couldn’t stop thinking about him. But tonight, she has so much paperwork to complete, so many files to sort through, so many loose ends to tie up, that her precious alone time seems as much like a distant dream as any of her fantasies do.

At the very least, this is time that she gets to spend with Alistair, who brings her cup after cup of tea to make sure that she’s able to stay awake long enough to finish up what she’s working on. She has to admit that the caffeine helps, though all the liquid is having another effect on her, one that she could do without when she’s so busy with work.

She could ignore the pressure in her bladder at first, but now, it’s beginning to become impossible to push to the back of her mind. More and more often, Emma finds herself shifting in her seat, trying to make holding it more bearable. Though she could have excused herself for a bathroom break some time ago, she had decided to push herself a little longer, wanting to get as much work done as possible. Even now that it’s starting to get bad, she thinks that she can wait a bit longer, and that she shouldn’t take a break when she has so much momentum going.

However, the fact that she continues to drink tea to keep herself alert means that holding is only going to get harder for her, and she soon finds that she can’t sit still at all. Now, she knows that it’s probably for the best that she takes a break, regardless of her momentum, but something keeps her rooted to her seat, making no move to get up and relieve herself.

It’s because Alistair is watching her, she realizes, and she is embarrassed to excuse herself in the middle of work for something that she feels like should not be such a big deal. With just the two of them here, there would be no disguising what she’s hurrying off for, and so she forces herself to wait it out, until all of her work is done for the night. She sets her teacup aside, promising herself that she will not drink anymore, and just do her best to stay awake without any help from that.

Really, it would be impossible to fall asleep right now anyway, with the strong pulses coming from her bladder. Were she actually trying to sleep, she would have to get up and go to the bathroom before that would be possible. Now, it’s hard to even sit still with how badly she needs to pee, which hinders her focus so much that work takes longer than it would have under normal circumstances.

Emma hopes that Alistair does not notice the change in her demeanor, and fights to keep her desperation as subtle as she can. When she thinks he isn’t paying attention, she grinds against her chair, gritting her teeth and squirming, though this does not keep the urge at bay for long. She is past the point where she can just push it aside, past the point where she can really think of anything other than how badly she needs this, how she really might not make it until the end.

It would be far worse to wet herself at her desk like some kind of child than to ask for a break, and she knows that, but it takes her so long to be able to see asking for a break as possible at all. She  _ knows _ that it would be worse to wet herself, with Alistair right next to her, but she still hates the idea of bringing attention to her need so much that asking at all feels too difficult. Her heart races and she loses all focus entirely, and she curls her toes in her shoes, she squeezes her thighs tightly together under her desk.

She’s not going to make, she’s going to leak and then she won’t be able to stop it, and then she is going to lose control and humiliate herself, she just knows it. There’s no more time to waste, and shakily, she begins to rise from her desk. All she has to do is excuse herself, and then it will be over, and she can return to work. It will be as simple as that, nothing to worry about.

“Miss?” asks Alistair. “Is something the matter?”

“Nothing at all,” she replies, forcing her voice to remain steady, casual.  “I’ll be right back, so we can finish up.”

But before she can take a single step, she feels his hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her, easing her back down into her chair. “Now, now do you really think this is a good time to stop?” he asks.”You’re so close to done, wouldn’t it be better to just finish up first?”

He would have a good point if it weren’t for the fact that she’s on the verge of wetting herself, and that she really needed this break a very long time ago. “But, I-”

His hand on her shoulder grows a little more firm, and he says, “If you just focus, you’ll find that it really isn’t that hard to finish.” At times, he is a bit more forceful and fatherly towards her than any other servant would be, and, though she appreciates their closeness, right now she would give anything for him to just blindly accept her words.

And she knows that she could argue further, that she could insist that this really isn’t something that can wait, but she can’t bring herself to do it. She can’t bring herself to admit it, and she knows that she’s lost, and that her only hope is to force herself to hold it until the end. It’s already so close that the idea of waiting any longer seems completely impossible, but she clenches as hard as she can, burning on the brink of letting the liquid escape, and she grits her teeth hard, determined.

At this point, she’s sure, with how much she’s shaking, that her desperation is completely obvious to him, but she no longer cares how obvious she makes it, just as long as she does not lose control in front of him. It takes all of her self-control not to jam a hand into her lap, between her legs, but even she is above that in this state. Just a little bit more, and she will be free to go; just a few more things to fill out, and she can make her escape. She’s going to make it, she’s not going to wet herself, everything is going to be just fine-

As she finishes up her work, she feels a hot spurt escape to dampen her panties, and she tenses, cutting it off before more can escape. Not yet, not yet, not when she’s so  _ close _ ! She struggles to stand up, shaking as she does, not saying a word to Alistair, not wanting to call any further attention to her problem, though she’s sure that he must know what’s wrong with her by now. Another spurt escapes her and she groans, stumbling out from behind her desk.

Every step she takes causes her to leak again and again, and she’s moving so painfully  _ slowly _ , and even though her bathroom is not that far away, it is  _ so _ far away, and  _ why _ did she think that she could wait this long? It’s too late, she already knows that it’s too late, and within just a few more steps, there is a leak that does not stop, a spurt that becomes more than a spurt, until it turns into a full torrent, soaking through her panties as she lets out a wail.

“Miss?” asks Alistair in concern, but she’s sure that it doesn’t take him long to figure out what’s happening to her.

It feels like it takes forever for her bladder to completely empty, though she’s sure it’s closer to a minute. Whatever the case, the large amount of tea she’s had results in a large puddle at her feet, the splattering of liquid on tile the only sound in the room, besides her quiet sobs. By the time it’s finally over, her strained bladder still aching even after it’s empty, she has already decided that can’t face him right now, or maybe ever again.

“I...I’m sorry!” she cries, fleeing for her bathroom. She isn’t sure what else to do, only that she wants to get away from him, and that she wants to get out of her wet clothes. After a shower, she’ll do what she can to avoid him and go to bed, but she isn’t sure where to go from there.

Emma has never been so humiliated in her life, made all the worse by the fact that Alistair was the one to witness it.

~X~

Alistair has a hard time processing what’s just happened, what he has had a hand in causing to happen to Emma. He wishes that he could say he had no idea that she was struggling so much, but that would be a lie; in the back of his mind, he knew exactly why she began to struggle to sit still, why her focus began to slip, and why she eventually wanted to take a break. And he knows that he shouldn’t have tried to stop her, so why did he?

There was no practical reason for him to stop her from relieving herself when she finally got up the nerve to admit that that’s what she needed, as she could have finished things up just as quickly once she returned. He had absolutely no reason to prolong her suffering, especially not to the point where she couldn’t hold it anymore, and ended up miserable and humiliated. All of that is bad enough on its own, but there is even more to it, more that he absolutely shouldn’t ever think or feel, not where Emma is concerned.

But he can’t ignore the familiar sensation of arousal, and though it’s not something he’s had to deal with in some time, he had always been certain that he could avoid it in a professional setting like this. He never thought he would desire anyone he served, and especially not the child of a family he’s worked with for years. Emma may not be a child anymore, but that doesn’t change the situation, and does not make him any better for this.

And what does that say about him, that he is not only turned on by something that she’s done, but that it’s something like  _ this _ , of all things? The poor thing was pushed to her limits and left humiliated, so there should not be anything even remotely appealing about that to him. There shouldn’t be, but clearly there is, and he doesn’t know what he should do about it, other than try to push it as far out of his mind as possible, and try to make it up to her in some way.

It’s been some time now since he heard the shower cut off, and he knows that she must be in her room by now. Perhaps she doesn’t want to see him at all, but he doesn’t want to sit by and wait for her to come around. He should reassure her that nothing is wrong and that he doesn’t think any less of her, he should make sure that she’s okay. With that in mind, he heads for her room, knocking lightly on her door.

“Miss?” he asks in a soft voice, and when she doesn’t respond, he knocks again and repeats himself, a little bit louder. Though he knows he shouldn’t intrude, he’s done what he can to alert her to his presence, and he’s a little worried that she isn’t responding, so he opens the door without her permission.

Naturally, he needn’t have worried at all, and Emma is just already asleep, but he’s glad that he checked to confirm either way. She doesn’t stir when he enters her room, which means that she really must have worn herself out, and he knows better than to wake her up just to check on her. Really, should leave now and come back first thing in the morning, but instead, Alistair continues into her room.

There’s a notebook out on her bedside table, and he goes to pick it up, only wanting to help her tidy her room. He assumes, at first, that it must be business related, and takes it to put with the rest of her business files, but as he walks with it, his curiosity gets the better of him, and he flips the notebook open to see what files it contains.

But inside the notebook, he does not find files, but rather, Emma’s neat handwriting, detailing her daily life and...much, much more. It’s obvious that this is a diary of sorts, and he closes it immediately, not wanting to invade her privacy anymore than he already has. Except he wonders...he knows that he shouldn’t pry, but from what he’s seen already, he knows there’s some very interesting content, and he can’t stop himself from reading what’s inside.

There are the obvious records of her day to day life, but this is amidst fantasies and confessions, and secrets he’s never known, but that relate directly to him, with the fantasies almost always involving him. As shocking as it may be, there is no denying that Emma has feelings for him, and has for quite some time.

But then, now that he knows it, he realizes that it isn’t all that shocking, that it’s more of a shock he never noticed before. She’s always had a fondness for him, one that should have faded after she grew but never did, something that he couldn’t really pass off as childhood admiration after a certain point, but he never really thought about it. Now, seeing her innermost thoughts, he knows that it was always more than that.

There is more to her journal than just a crush, though, and the longer he reads, the more he uncovers, about her secrets and her desires, and how certain things have twisted her to desire what she does. She tells a story, one that he knows must be true based on her description of an event he remembers, and he remembers a change in her behavior afterward, but was never able to get to the bottom of it.

Now he reads her describing the night of her parents’ party, he reads as she talks about a man there who took quite an interest with her and spent the evening following her around the party, talking to her and flirting with her. At first, she appreciated the attention, but as time went on, it got to be excessive, and she was uncomfortable with him, trying to get rid of him whenever she could, but she was never successful.

And then he managed to get her completely alone, and Emma does not describe anything in detail, but it is enough for Alistair to know what happened, and to know that, if she’d disclosed the identity of the man, he might not have been able to stop himself from killing him.

What follows that story is a description of how this has affected her perspective of sexual relationships, and how it has awoken within her a desire that she did not have before. The loss of control and loss of power was horrific at the time, but now, she craves it again, in a situation that she ultimately does have the control over. From the fantasies she describe and the way she explains it, it becomes apparent that she wants to have a lover, someone that she trusts- him- take that control over her because she wants it.

If that were the case, then she would, in a sense, have control over the situation, because a lover would stop if she needed him to. That is what so many of her written fantasies entail, and he loses himself in her words, imagining himself in the role she’s created for him, knowing that if he made her dreams come to life, he would likely enjoy it just as much. In fact, as he nears the end of her journal, he’s already begun to come to a decision about what he’s going to do with all of this new information.

He waits until he reads to the end, though, because it’s very possible that the events of tonight may have changed her feelings for him. He’s sure that she can’t be too happy about what’s happened, but when he gets to her most recent journal entry, he’s in for quite the surprise. Emma describes her humiliation in so much detail that it reminds him of how arousing it was to watch, and goes on to say that there is a part of her that liked it, that would love to made to hold it again, and likes the idea of him controlling when she’s able to go to the bathroom.

Now, Alistair knows for sure that he’s made the right decision. He begins making his plans for what he’s going to do to her, to make her fantasies become a reality, to show her that he’s interested in her as well, and to help cheer her up after he forced her into that situation before either of them knew that it was something she would like.

It’s improper for a butler to become involved with his lady like this, but if it’s what she wants, it would be far worse to deny her, he’s sure.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get spicier, new tags have been added

The next day, she doesn’t speak to him much, and it’s clear that she wants to pretend that nothing happened, and avoid him as much as possible. He goes along with it, not doing anything to remind her of her humiliation the night before, but Alistair knows that tonight will bring on a big change, and she will have one of her many fantasies brought to life.

Emma goes throughout the day like always, and when it gets to be around the time he would bring her her evening tea, he does so. She blushes as she accepts it, no doubt embarrassed as she remembers the incident the night before, and how it was her evening tea that brought it on in the first place. Well, tonight, it’s going to be much more interesting than that, but he stands by, not giving away his excitement.

Alistair waits for her to finish her tea, watching her while she works, and watching as she yawns more and more, growing tired rapidly. Though it’s far from the most honorable way to do it, he is simply going by the book, in a very literal sense. Soon enough, Emma falls asleep completely, and he jostles her a bit, but is unable to wake her.

The effects are strong, but they won’t last for long, so he wastes no time in carrying her to her room, undressing her, and tying her up. He leaves her alone at that point, just patiently waiting for her to wake up from the drug-induced sleep. It doesn’t take long, fortunately, and as she stirs, he can see the confusion growing on her face, as she first wonders when she fell asleep, how she got to her room, how she got naked, and then-

She struggles against her bonds, realizing for the first time that she is tied up. The panic is clear in her face as her eyes open, and when they land on Alistair, he can see the swirl of emotions in her eyes, as she tries to decide if she is afraid or confused or excited, but it must be a combination of the three. “A-Alistair?” she asks. “What’s going on? What happened?”

“You fell asleep,” he replies simply. “I saw you start to drift off, and then, you were so vulnerable that there I couldn’t help myself.”

“Y-you…?”

He smiles as he holds up her journal, watching her pale as she realizes what the book in his hand is. “I found some very interesting stories in this little book,” he says. “You never mentioned that you were quite the writer. But, after seeing how terribly you wanted these fantasies realized, I decided to make that happen for you. After all, what kind of butler would I be if I didn’t do something like that for my lady?”

“But I…”

“Oh my, you’re not afraid of me, are you? I suppose I do have you in a rather vulnerable position, but isn’t that what you always wanted?”

He hopes that he isn’t being too forceful, hopes that she knows that he would stop if she only asked him to. She watches him silently, as if trying to read him, and he gives her a gentle smile for a moment, hoping that this is enough to reassure her. When she returns his smile, he knows that she’s gotten the message, and that it’s okay for him to continue.   
“Now that you’ve left yourself so vulnerable, there are so many things I’d like to do to you. You’re so beautiful, I’m so lucky to have a chance like this. So vulnerable...so beautiful…” He smiles as he approaches her, resting a hand on her face first, gently stroking her cheek before he runs his hand down, caressing along her neck, then dropping his hand further down, along her shoulder and then…

Alistair cups one of her breasts in his hand, and Emma is shaking now, holding her breath as she waits for what he is going to do next. He holds the pose for some time, loving the way he can see the anticipation building in her eyes. She tenses as he gives her a gentle squeeze, and with her focus completely on that, he is able to surprise her, leaning in suddenly to place his lips to hers. Emma gasps as their lips meet, allowing him to deepen their kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth.

Now, he knows that she is completely helpless under his touch, and he pulls his hand forward along her breast, until he is gently pinching her nipple between two fingers. At this, she jolts suddenly, the pleasure overwhelming her. Though she knows what she wants, she’s never come even remotely close to feeling anything like this. It’s simple, but his experience, coupled with her inexperience, makes it too easy for him.

He breaks the kiss, leaving her panting, so that he can drop his mouth down to her other nipple, wrapping his lips around her breast, and never slowing the movements of his fingers at the same time. Emma squirms, moaning and seeming incapable of speech as he overwhelms her with everything that he can do.

“A-ah~!” she cries out, as he traces his tongue along her nipple, sending electric shocks of pleasure throughout her entire body. For just a warm up, this is having quite the effect on her, and now he wants to see if he can get her off like this, without actually moving any lower. It seems like quite the easy goal, as she writhes under his touch, unconsciously clenching her thighs together.

He glances up at her, his tongue still moving expertly, teasing her, and when they make eye contact, she shudders, and he can tell that she is almost there, that he does not have further to go. Just a few more seconds, he just has to keep it up, and then-

The look on her face as she climaxes is so delicious that he nearly feels his own control slipping, and he wonders if it’s similar to how she looked before, when she wet herself in front of him. She had been facing the other way then, and he’s sure that her humiliation far outweighed the bliss of relief, but since he has no reference for how she looked, he can’t help but imagine it being something like this, and he wants her so badly that he nearly rushes things.

But he remembers himself at the last minute, and does not push things further than he is ready to at this time. He has plans for how he wants to do this, and he is not going to break those plans. After all, he wants this to be memorable for her; he wants this to be everything she dreamed it would be, which means that he has to take things little by little.

She is getting comfortable now that she’s felt the pleasure he has to offer, but he knows from her journal that comfort is not necessarily what she’s after.

“Well, that was easy, wasn’t it?” he asks in a taunting tone of voice. “I had no idea the lady of the house was such a slut. What would the other workers think? Or your temporary business partners? I wonder how they would feel if they knew you went to absolute  _ pieces _ , just because you got felt up by your old butler?”

“I’m not...it isn’t like that…” she weakly protests.

“Then what  _ is _ it like?” he asks, and she gives him a helpless look. With a smirk, he replies, “Exactly what I thought. The worst part is, you have the excuse of being tied up, but even if you were free to go, I don’t think you would. Would you?”

“I...I don’t know,” she lies, and he knows that it’s a lie just by the look in her eyes. She desperately wants him to continue, but to say that would be to break the game. Without a healthy element of fear and uncertainty, without a loss of control, to a certain degree, then it isn’t the fantasy she wrote out, the fantasy that he read and memorized, that he is attempting to bring to life for her today.

“You want me to touch you somewhere else,” he answers for her, and she blushes at his words. “I know that I’m right. You’re a lot more brazen than one would suspect. Well, then, I guess there’s only one thing to do with you.”

She squirms under his touch, as he moves his hand down, between her legs. It’s easy to tell that she’s getting more and more nervous as things progress, but he has given her plenty of opportunities to ask him to stop, and she hasn’t yet. As long as she allows him to continue, then he will, and when he first pushes a finger inside of her and she gives a little hiss of surprise, he waits again, looking for any signs of discomfort. Finding none, he presses on.

When he’s comfortably fit two fingers inside of her, he hooks them and she moans, and he thinks about drawing things out even further, getting her off again before he actually fucks her. It could be fun, and she would enjoy it either way, but he’s starting to get impatient now too. He hasn’t done anything like this in some time, and now that he’s so close, he really doesn’t want to deny himself for much longer. Besides, there will be plenty of time in the future, to do whatever he wants with her.

She whines when he removes his fingers, already growing so shamelessly needy, making it clear that she is desperate for more. He moves her into a decent position, while she is powerless to control how she is moved, until it is easy for him to climb on top of her, unzipping his pants and freeing his erection as he does so. Their faces are close now, and he can plainly see the uncertainty in Emma’s eyes, but still, she does not ask him to stop, she does not voice any of her concerns.

Though he knows, at least, that it isn’t her first time, it’s her first time in quite some time, and her first time with someone who can actually make sure that the experience is pleasurable for her. He knows what he’s doing, and he won’t do anything to actually hurt her, so he takes it as slow as he can manage, when he first begins to enter her. She tenses, as he pauses until she relaxes, allowing him to slide further in, without forcing himself.

They repeat this process quite a bit before he’s resting completely inside of her. Her uncertainty fades more and more, until he’s buried within her and she’s had time to adjust, time to start to enjoy the feeling of fullness. When she first moans, he knows that they’ve reached this point and, gripping her shoulders, he gives a thrust, testing her reaction.

Emma cries out, and not from pain, and he muffles this, pressing his lips to hers so that he can kiss her again. It’s even better, listening to her moans and feeling them reverberate through his own mouth, while he fucks her senseless. And, though he starts out gently, that doesn’t last long, for as soon as he knows she can handle it, he picks up the pace considerably, until “fucking her senseless” is really the only way to describe it.

With her completely bound, there is nothing that she can do other than take it, but that doesn’t seem to be a problem for her at all. She kisses him back as fiercely as she can, the only real contribution she can make, but it speaks volumes for how much she wants this, all of this. She’s wanted this for so long, and it isn’t much longer before he can feel her growing tense again, but not out of any sort of resistance this time. He is just barely hanging on, and this is nearly enough to push him over the edge, but he holds out, resisting so that he can get her there first, and let the pulses and spasms of her orgasm finally overpower him entirely.

As a result, their climaxes are nearly simultaneous, with hers just slightly before his, and perhaps prolonged as a result of his, because she is still coming down from it even as he is slumped against her, trying to catch his breath. Any uncertainty he once saw in her eyes is completely gone now, and, though he’s worn himself out for the time being, that does not mean that he can’t continue to assist in the fantasies that she wants to live out.

So, after giving her a bit of time to recover, he starts from the beginning again, getting her off over and over again until she is so exhausted she falls asleep, with him not far behind her.

“I’ll clean up in the morning,” he promises her, before she drifts off, and internally, he promises himself that they will address the matter of their feelings at that point as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will likely be a bit shorter, to just round things off and finish the prompt


	3. Chapter 3

However, when she wakes up in the morning, she finds herself with a more pressing problem than whatever might be going on between her and Alistair. Which is to say, since he never untied her before they fell asleep the night before, considering that a part of the cleanup process, she is still tied up and unable to get out of bed on her own. While laying next to him under most circumstances would be good enough that she wouldn’t mind drawing it out, she wakes up seriously needing to pee.

By the time she wakes up, the ache in her bladder is already nearly past manageable, so she shifts, moving as much as she can in her restricted state, so that she can jostle Alistair, saying, “Wake up,” to him, until he finally does.

“Good morning, Miss Emma,” he says with a smile, once he is fully coherent. Is it just her, or is there a particular look in his eyes when she squirms? Does he even notice that she’s squirming?

“Could you please untie me now?” she requests, not sure why she doesn’t phrase it as an order. Now that he has exerted dominance over her, it’s hard for her to imagine ever giving him another order.

“And why would I want to do that?” he asks, and now she can tell that he is smirking, that he must be aware of her predicament. “The day’s only just begun, but...I think you and I are both ready for a little more fun, don’t you? After all, you’re already tied up, so that just makes it easier for us to get started, right?”

Her pulse quickens, and she understands that he has no intention of untying her until it’s already too late. And, as much as the rational part of her insists that she should beg, or demand, to be released, that part is quickly silenced as her own desires win her over. By then, Alistair has already moved his hand between her legs, has already begun fingering her, and then, there is no hope left for her escape. Emma is his willing captive, leaving him to have his way with her, despite the protests of her overfull bladder.

She bites her lip as he presses his finger inside of her, moaning softly as the pleasure combats the pain of her desperation. If she protests, if she vocalizes her reason for wanting to get out of bed, he’s sure that he will just reply that he already knew, and that he won’t stop even then. No matter what she does, there is no way out of this, and what’s more, she doesn’t want a way out.

Emma tries to fight each leak that threatens to escape, but Alistair is so skilled with his fingers that it’s hard to keep any sort of focus, and she begins to leak more and more frequently. As Alistair works a second finger inside of her, he begins stroking at her clit with his thumb, and the shocks of pleasure this sends through her body are nearly enough to immediately do her in. Trembling on the edge of her orgasm, as well as losing control of her bladder, it is all Emma can do to fight against both.

And, though she does not want to fight against her orgasm, she knows that to give into that would be to give up control of her bladder, and even if there is no way out of either, she is going to drag it out for as long as she can manage. Alistair does not show her any mercy, and, as if sensing her resistance, only increasing the pace of his movements, overwhelming her until she can hardly focus on the fact that she doesn’t want to give up in the first place.

Giving up becomes more and more appealing, both as her pleasure overwhelms her senses and as the throbs from her bladder increase, reminding her that that pain will not subside until she lets go. If she’s going to have to let go one way or another, wouldn’t it be better to just get that out of the way now? With both sensations nagging at her, it is not long before all self-control slips away, just before her physical control would have on its own, and she lets go.

She does intend to just give in to her climax, but naturally, as the pulsing sensation takes over, as she trembles and moans, her bladder has no hope of holding out against this, and Alistair does not move his hand even as a torrent of hot urine escapes her. He continues fingering her as she rides out her orgasm, and even as the pulses fade, he does not move his hand until her bladder has fully emptied itself, which feels as though it takes some time to her.

When it is all over with, and she is left with her bladder sore from holding, and a pleasant tingle from her afterglow, Alistair unceremoniously wipes his hand on a dry portion of her bedsheets and begins to untie her.

“We’v got quite a bit of cleanup to do,” he says. “Or, at least, I do, but I believe the top priority is getting  _ you _ a bath.” Though Emma is usually the type to take showers, she can’t deny that taking a warm, lazy bath sounds very pleasant after the night before, and this morning. Even more pleasant if Alistair is planning on joining her.

But, before that…

“If you read my journal, that means you know everything,” she says, recalling the way he showed her the book last night, as a means of explaining it all. “Including my past and including...my feelings.”

“Those are feelings that I share,” he replies quickly. “Otherwise, I never would have...regardless of how much you seemed to want all the things I did to you, to do any of that without returning your feelings would be to take advantage of you, in my eyes, and I would never take advantage of the lady I’m sworn to serve. This was my way of showing you that I love you, and that I will indulge you in any fantasy that you may have, from this day forward.”

Emma is overwhelmed to hear him say all of this at once. She had hoped that he was not just doing this for fun, for a sort of game, but in the moment, living out her fantasies with them, she hadn’t cared very much what the outcome would be. Now that her head is clear enough to really think about it, she knows that no other ending would have left her truly satisfied. That being said, it also leaves her rather speechless, and she isn’t sure how to respond to his confession.

She’s imagined it several times in her fantasies, and always had just the right thing to reply with then, but now that it is really happening, she can’t seem to find her words at all, and struggles for a moment, leaving them in silence. In the end, what she is able to say is, “Are you sure about that? You’ve seen the evidence, my fantasies can get a little bit weird sometimes.”

“You forget my position,” he says, with a soft, yet playful smile. “Your wish is my command, after all.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you're interested in my writing updates, please follow my fanfiction twitter @WattStalf  
> I'll follow back so long as you don't post anything hateful!


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